Insane Ninja – i

what sort of boy name jake does not eat cake or wait to be served by his mates on plates today she asked as I pondered the next task wondering about wet saps who ask for tic tacs to cover breaths of sars too harsh to ask parts of trash who jack knick knack paddy whack give a dog a bone back so he can bark back at a back packing pack of slim jim slams who jam on wood banks for boom baps or raps that rhyme with lines of time from fine wined dimes that dine with prime stars sinister misters who asked the minister to preach time and again from a pulpit of disgust at all who mistrust the words written in a book that’s out of time, or words thrown like discus from the mouths of men who never lived us or knew who we were before we became docile dressed up sheep in wolves clothing who never bother to shave hair bare or share to play the part of true believers in blue toting drug smoking herbal deliverance tracks backpacking through the limelight asking right of he who has the answers to the questions I’m asking who are the masters of the visions I’m having forgive me father for I have sinned two minutes passed since my laps began to give me headaches for dreaming of wet play with four days of more yay than any crack back black jack dealers of smack packs can pack into an array of data streams constantly barging in to the mind of the man who never seems to stop receiving visions of connecting strings to dots that make the entire tapestry of the picture sing with glee at the death of ignorance or the birth of me rebirth on trees burned in bushes staying intact in facts that cannot be checked by the deck on the chest of the first to be blessed by the death of distress


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